إِنَّما العَيشُ وَالحَياةُ لِمَن أَص
بَحَ بَينَ المُدامِ وَالنَدمانِ
Life and living belong only to him who greets the morn
amid wine and boon companions—
مِن شَرابٍ كَأَنَّما ناسَبَ البَر
قَ صَفاءً في اللَونِ وَاللَمَعانِ
with wine that seems to rival lightning
in purity of hue and brilliance.
وَكَأَنَّ الكاساتِ مِنهُ خَلاءٌ
وَهوَ مِنها في مُترَعٍ مَلآنِ
The goblets seem empty of it,
though it lies in one of them, brimming full.
رِقَّةٌ لا تُرى مَعَ الكَأسِ إِلّا
بَعدَ وَهمِ الظُنونِ عِندَ العَيانِ
So limpid that the cup cannot be seen beside it, save
after conjecture’s fancy gives way to direct sight.
لَذَّ طَعماً وَطابَ ريحاً فَأَغنى
عَن جَنِيِّ التُفّاحِ وَالرَيحانِ
Delicious in taste and sweet in fragrance, it dispenses
with freshly gathered apples and fragrant basil.
صادِقَ الروحِ وَالحَياةِ فَقَد قا
مَ مَقامَ الأَرواحِ في الأَبدانِ
True in spirit and life—for it has taken
the place of souls within bodies.
فَاِصطَبِح وَاِغتَبِق بِوَردِيَّةِ اللَو
نِ عَلى الوَردِ في خُدودِ الغَواني
So drink it morning and evening—a roseate wine,
its hue surpassing the roses on the cheeks of beauties.
Sol 5.6